


right here

by IceImagines



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling, F/F, Fluff, Slow mornings, discussion of non lethal injury, with a little trace of angst, yes widow being terrified of loss is a theme in my stories why do you ask
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-24 00:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18159233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceImagines/pseuds/IceImagines
Summary: Sombra is back early from a mission. Widowmaker thinks too much.





	right here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bonimpfate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonimpfate/gifts).



> this was a request from my pal danni, i'm so glad you liked it!! & i hope some other ppl can enjoy it as well : ) pretty short and sweet, but like, really sweet. drenched in honey. written to be as full of love as possible. watch out it might give you a toothache. 
> 
> widow thinking abt sombra's heartbeat has vent fic-y elements so pls be kind when it comes to that,,
> 
> soundtrack for this is sirens by pearl jam (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0BuLMmOyPL8) but only listen to it if you feel like getting a little sad. i always bawl like a baby when i listen to this so be prepared

The first thing Widowmaker noticed when she woke up was the warmth. Her conditioning made it difficult for her sometimes to tell temperatures apart, her skin as numb to the heat as it was to the cold, but the contrast to when she‘d fallen asleep was too stark not to notice. The warmth was ever-present, collected under the blankets drawn more carefully over Widowmaker‘s body than they‘d been hours before. 

It took her a few moments to register that the source of the warmth was pressed up against her, soft and still, ribcage gently rising and falling, head resting in the crook of Widowmaker‘s neck, mussed brown and lavender hair close enough to her nose for her to catch a whiff of the plum shampoo Widowmaker knew she favored. 

She had not been there when Widowmaker had gone to bed. Widowmaker hadn‘t expected her to return from her mission until afternoon of the next day. 

When she let her fingers lightly drift down Sombra‘s side, she was unexpectedly met with rough fabric stretched over smooth skin. A bandage. Something contracted in Widowmaker‘s chest, almost painfully. Worry. She‘d gotten to know this feeling quite well since she‘d met Sombra. It was there every time Sombra went on a mission, and it was many times amplified whenever Sombra got injured. 

Whatever this was couldn‘t be particularly dangerous, she reminded herself, or Sombra would not be here, but down in the medbay. With Moira. 

Widowmaker was glad she was not down in the medbay. 

Still, she kept absentmindedly trailing her fingers over the bandage, feeling the texture under her fingertips, the barely there trace of warmth from Sombra‘s skin that was palpable even through the fabric. A part of her wanted to know how she‘d been wounded, but an even stronger part of her didn‘t want to think about it at all. Didn‘t want to think about the fact that Sombra had been hurt. 

Widow had become too used to the way the thin strips of morning light from outside fell through the shutters and onto Sombra‘s face, painting lines of gold onto her forehead, her nose, her cheeks. She so resented the thought of having to wake up without it again. 

She wrapped an arm around Sombra‘s shoulders and pulled her tighter against her. Sombra didn‘t wake up, but snuggled closer with a soft noise, wriggling until she was laying half atop Widow, head tucked under her chin. Widow could feel her heartbeat close to her own, racing in comparison, but she knew it wasn‘t really. She‘d found it off putting at first, even frightening at times, but she‘d gotten used to it. She couldn‘t imagine not knowing its strong, steady rhythm anymore, the constant reminder that Sombra was there, and that she was so very much alive. So different from Widow herself. It surprised her, sometimes, that Sombra had an interest in her at all. Widow couldn‘t fathom what brought it about, but the way Sombra mumbled something in Spanish against her collarbone in her sleep, the way her long dark lashes fluttered against her cheeks, reminded Widow again and again that whatever it was, she should thank the universe for it. 

She lost track of time laying there, entranced by the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of Sombra‘s chest and the miniscule shifts in her expression as she dreamt. Widowmaker wondered sometimes whether her dreams were in binary code. She read and wrote it as fluently as she did Spanish, alongside several other code languages, some of which she had come up with herself. Sometimes, she said, they felt more natural than even her own mother tongue. Widow believed her without hesitation. Too many times had she had to gently pry her away from her monitors when her eyes had become too empty, too fixated on the endless rows of ciphers racing by in a flurry of black and vibrant violet. It made Widow wish her own head was scored by the same pink metal strips fused to Sombra‘s skull. Maybe then she could have understood what made Sombra get lost in the code so easily. 

But she wasn‘t lost now. She was here, pressed up against Widow, her slow breaths warming her chest. Widow couldn‘t take her eyes off of her face. She was so beautiful. 

Eventually, Sombra stirred in Widow‘s arms. She yawned a little and stretched, spine arching, before her eyes fluttered open, still unfocused and hazy with sleep. 

„ _Araña?_ “ Her voice sounded raspier than usual. Widow could feel the vibrations where Sombra‘s mouth was still pressed against the side of her neck. 

„Are you... hm...“ She yawned again. „... are you awake?“

„ _Ouais_ “, Widow mumbled into her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. A smile stole itself onto Sombra‘s face, and one of her arms found its way around Widow‘s waist. 

„Morning.“ 

Another kiss, to her forehead this time. „Good morning, _mon chou._ “ 

She never allowed herself these nicknames when there were people around. Not because they didn‘t know about her and Sombra. Ever since Akande had come back from prison and made it clear that he would not seek to punish either of them for their relationship, Sombra had made it quite impossible to miss. She‘d been taking every opportunity to sit in Widow‘s lap when there was a perfectly good second chair right there, or hold her hand, or kiss her, all to rub it in Moira‘s face that there was nothing she could do about it, and Widow couldn‘t say she minded. But it wasn‘t the same as this. When they were like this, she could let herself be vulnerable. Soft. Weak, even. The only time it didn‘t scare her was when she held Sombra in her arms, with no eyes to watch them, human or mechanical. 

„How was your mission?“, Widow asked quietly, even though the bandage around Sombra‘s midsection really told her everything she needed to know.

„Disaster. Target escaped. Didn‘t complete data extraction, either.“

„Why?“

„Got shot.“ She giggled, as if that were something funny. „These guys had shit aim. They didn‘t even hit anything important.“

„I‘d rather they hadn‘t hit you at all“, Widow grumbled, pulling her closer. Sombra lifted her head off her collarbone a little to look at her, still blinking the sleep away from her eyes, but a smirk adorned her features. 

„Aw, worried about me?“ 

Widow closed her eyes and sighed.

„ _Toujours, mon cœur._ “

Sombra‘s smile grew softer. „You‘re such a sap, _araña_ , you know that?“ She pressed a kiss to Widow‘s jawline before hiding her face in her neck again. 

„For not wanting you to get injured? Is that so unreasonable?“ 

She felt Sombra shake her head, but she didn‘t say anything, just brought a hand up to search until she found Widow‘s, and wove their fingers together. Widow had always loved her hands. They were a perfect fusion of strong and delicate, with neatly cut and painted nails even without the hard light extensions. They were warm, and touched Widow more gently than anyone had in years. There was a scar bisecting the back of the right one, a long, almost straight pale line. The knife had been meant for her heart, Sombra had once mentioned, almost offhandedly. She‘d been lucky. 

Being lucky seemed to be something she was good at. A knife wound to the hand instead of the chest. A bullet grazing her side instead of burying itself in her gut. 

Still, Widow‘s fingers lingered on the bandage. 

„You were hurt...“ Her voice trailed off while she tried to gather her thoughts, her brow furrowed. „You were hurt, and I couldn‘t prevent it.“

Sombra looked up again, clearly confused. „ _Corazón_ , you weren‘t there.“ 

„Exactly“, Widow murmured. „I should have been there to protect you. I could have killed the shooter. I could have taken the-“ 

Sombra cut her off. „Widow, no.“ She‘d pushed herself up on her elbows so that she was hovering over Widow, staring at her intently. Her dark blue eyes were serious. 

„I wouldn‘t have wanted you to, okay? I would never want you to get hurt instead of me. I‘m serious.“

Widow averted her gaze. „Two inches to the left, Sombra. Two inches to the left and you would have been dead.“ She pulled in a deep shuddering breath. „I was so close to... to losing you-“

Sombra grabbed her hand and pulled it upwards, pressing it against her chest, just over her heart. Widowmaker could feel its strong, steady beat under her palm as Sombra leaned down and brushed her lips over Widow‘s, a touch so light it could barely be called a kiss, but it carried just as much weight. 

„You didn‘t lose me, though“, she whispered. „You didn‘t lose me. I‘m right here.“ 

Widow wrapped her free arm around her waist and pulled her closer against her, blinking away the traitorous tears that had collected on her lashes. She kissed her properly, this time, warm lips pressed to cold ones, felt her smile against her mouth, and the fear went away.

**Author's Note:**

> translations:
> 
> araña - spider
> 
> ouais - yes/yeah
> 
> mon chou - my sweet bun (yes i know i know widow is a big sap okay)
> 
> toujours, mon cœur - always, my heart
> 
> corazón - heart


End file.
